


After the Break

by madridistagoblue



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Bromance, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 22:16:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madridistagoblue/pseuds/madridistagoblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After returning from international duty under radically different circumstances, Kaká doesn't want Cristiano to feign happiness for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Break

He wasn't sure what to say. Perhaps it was better to say nothing at all. This isn't how he had imagined being reunited, not when a week before there had been nothing but smiles and congratulations and high expectations. He could see the pain still so obviously etched on Cristiano’s face, even as the younger man forced a smile saying “congratulations” in a voice unbecoming of his bloodshot eyes.

It was all wrong, though Cristiano would certainly tell him that he was the one mistaken. That he should be celebrating two victories, two goals, two years’ worth of sleepless nights, hidden tears, feigned smiles, and tireless work to be called up to play with the selecção again. And of course he had. But he couldn’t right now. Not looking at the disappointment lingering on Cris’ every motion, much as the Portuguese star tried to hide it. He didn’t doubt that Cristiano was truly happy for him. They were close enough by now that Ricky could sense such things. But any happiness Cristiano had for his friend was overshadowed by the presence of other thoughts in his mind. Yet, ever the fighter, Cristiano tried to hide his inner feelings behind a contented exterior. And, perhaps, to someone other than Ricky, such feigned expressions might have worked. Cris’ forced smile begged Ricky to celebrate. To acknowledge his congratulations. To let out that unabashed, effervescent smile that just appeared so effortlessly as his teammates rushed to his side in the match against Japan. And on one hand Ricky wanted to—just for a second, just to placate his friend. But he couldn’t. Because at that moment, Ricky wasn’t happy.

“Cristiano,” Ricky began, bracing himself emotionally. “It’s alright for you to be upset. You don’t have to be happy for me.” His heart was racing. He wasn’t sure what he was saying, nor if he should continue. He felt desperate, his mind racing to concoct the rest of an appropriate statement. He felt compelled to say something that would penetrate Cristiano’s defenses and allow his friend to open up about his own feelings. It wasn’t a desire on Ricky’s part to help Cristiano. It was a pressing need.

Cristiano shook his head. “Ricky,” he sighed. “You’ve been waiting for years to play with Brazil again. And not only have you done it, now, but you proved to everyone why you belong. You’ve proved to everyone that you’re still a great player. Of course I’m happy for you.”

Ricky shook his head. “That’s not what I mean,” he stumbled. He fought to find the words he wanted to say. He clutched on to phrases in his mind that sounded promising for a moment but diminished in their impact as soon as he thought to voice them into words. “I mean that your matches with Portugal are just as important. I mean, mine weren’t even to qualify into the World Cup.”

“But they were important to you,” Cristiano replied, emphasizing the “you” not only with his voice but with an unflinching gaze in his otherwise broken eyes. 

“So were yours,” Ricky shot back immediately.

“I’m fine,” Cristiano insisted. “I scored two successive hat tricks and a brace in El Clásico. I didn't have anything to prove.”

“Right,” Ricky sighed. “Only I did.”

The pairs’ eyes broke contact for the first time since their reunion.

“That’s…that’s not what I meant, Ricky!” Cristiano stumbled almost immediately after Ricky had spoken. “I just…”

“No, you’re right,” Ricky conceded.

“You scored a hat-trick too!” Cris insisted as an afterthought.

“Cristiano…” Ricky pleaded looking him in the eyes once more. “You know it’s not the same. They didn’t stop believing in you.”

“Well, maybe they will now,” Cristiano said angrily. “Or at least they’ll stop believing in Portugal.”

“It was only two matches,” Ricky reminded him. “And Russia’s a tough opponent.”

“And Northern Ireland?” Cristiano snapped back.

“Also not an easy team,” Ricky responded diplomatically. “You’re being too hard on yourself.”

“Am I, Ricky?” he asked, his words pressing, desperate. “Is it too much to demand more of myself every match? Isn’t that what you demand of yourself too? Trying to live up to the potential that you know is there?”

“Every day,” Ricky admitted.

“Then what do I do?” Cristiano asked exasperatedly.

“Don’t lose faith in yourself…” Ricky responded emphatically but quietly. His words were intimate, painfully personal.

“Ricky…” Cristiano breathed his friend’s name quietly, reaching a hand out to his shoulder. “Ricky, stop it. That’s all over now.”

“Is it?” Ricky shook his head in doubt. Cristiano pulled him in with the hand already on his shoulder and enveloped him in a warm embrace.

“Yes,” Cristiano assured in a voice barely over a whisper. “Yes it is.” He held on tightly, not sure what words to say, only knowing that he couldn’t let go.

Ricky didn’t move, allowing himself to anchor his own arms around Cristiano as he felt his eyes becoming warm. He wouldn’t cry. He had no reason to. Cristiano was right. These last two weeks he had received everything he had hoped for, struggled for, prayed for, and worked for. It had all paid off. Yet doubt lingered, unable to escape from the darkest corners of his mind.

“If it’s any comfort,” Cristiano said, softly. “I believe in you.”

“You’ve always believed in me,” Ricky replied, his voice beginning to become choked up.

“Because if anyone could make it through all that you’ve been through and still come out on top, that person is definitely you,” Cristiano asserted firmly. He could tell by Ricky’s heavy breathing that he had started crying, even though he refused to show it, his head buried in Cristiano’s shoulder. “Things are turning out for the best, Ricky. You said it yourself before you left. And you did so well with the selecção. Why are you so upset again?”

“I don’t know,” Ricky admitted, leaning his head up a bit to talk and revealed his tear-stained eyes. I just don’t know. I guess I’m just not…” he paused trying to figure out words through labored breaths. “Not strong enough.”

“Ricky,” Cristiano said firmly, pulling his friend out of the hug to look him straight in the eyes. “You are the strongest person I know. A man who works as hard as you? With faith like yours?”

Ricky shook his head. “God has done so much for me. And what do I do in return? I keep doubting. I keep worrying, even though I know I shouldn’t. Even though I know that everything will work out. Everything has its purpose. I’m just so…so impatient…”

“You? Impatient?” Cristiano laughed. “Who was the one a moment ago who was complaining because he hadn’t played well in two matches with his national team, and who was the one who still believed he’d be called up again after two years?”

Ricky shrugged, but the faintest hint of a smile was on his face. Cristiano let go of Ricky’s shoulders and gave him a small punch on the arm. “Just a moment ago I was upset and you were fine. I’m over it, it’s your turn,” he smiled.

“You’re not really over it,” he stated. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. “That’s ok. You have every right to be upset. It will make you a better player in the end.”

“How do you know?” Cristiano tried to tease, but Ricky could tell from his voice it was partially a genuine question.

“’Cause me and you,” Ricky laughed. “We’re really the same.”

“No way!” Cristiano disagreed. “You’re way better than me.”

“No, you’re better,” Ricky said back.

“Well…” Cristiano smiled. “Maybe at football.”

“You wanna’ play me on that?” Ricky asked, his eyes challenging.

Cristiano’s eyes lit up at the suggestion. “Oooh, watch what you wish for” he smiled. “It’s been too long since the last time I scored. No way I’m going easy on you.”

“Well, you know what they’re all saying?” Ricky teased back. “I’m back now.”

“Bring it on,” Cristiano smirked.

“I plan on it,” Ricky smiled back, as they raced each other to go grab a ball.


End file.
